


Snap

by Angelci5



Category: The Professionals
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-01
Updated: 2011-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-16 05:28:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1333804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelci5/pseuds/Angelci5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written in 2010.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Snap

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2010.

Doyle gasped as the arm around his waist tightened its hold, pulling him close. He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the pressure at his temple, concentrated on trying to catch his breath... _fuck it hurt_.

 

Side by side they’d stood over her body, Bodie’s brittle calm belying the rage simmering beneath the surface.

Doyle had muttered his regret; she’d been fearless, determined... _those bastards_...

Cold blue eyes swung round to look at him, and Doyle saw the moment the control snapped and the purging began.

It was a maelstrom of punches and blows, driving Doyle back as he blocked and dodged the ones he could and took the rest, unwilling to inflict any more pain on Bodie.

 

Doyle opened his eyes again. Under different circumstances he might’ve appreciated the panoramic view of London, displayed as it was against a backdrop of white sky. But right now, held precariously close to the edge of this roof at gunpoint, with Cowley looking like one of the bloody Borrowers on the ground below him, right now wasn’t the time.

“You think this is going to change anything, do you? Make you feel better?” Doyle taunted, trying to block out the pain. Sod it, he wasn’t going quietly.

The only answer he got was the muzzle jabbed harder to his temple, and an agonising squeeze on his bruised ribs as he was clutched tighter against his captor.

“We both going over then, or just me?” Doyle went on, determined to get the bastard talking. “Bet you want to watch me go, don’t you, but you know you’ll never get away with it. Might as well both go together, eh?”

“Shut up!”

“Not losing your nerve, are you, Bodie? Cowley getting to you, is he?”

The controller was calling up to them, most of what he said lost in the wind, just the odd conciliatory word carrying to the roof.

“I told you to shut up!” Bodie hissed.

“Yeah, well, the way I see it, mate, I’ve got nothing to lose...” said Doyle. “You’re gonna either shoot me or chuck me off this roof... or both. Though why you’re blaming me for this mess, I don’t fucking know!”

“Oh, ‘course not...” Bodie sneered sarcastically. “Not perfect bloody Raymond Doyle, The Conscience of CI5... except it’s very selective that conscience of yours, isn’t it? Complete fucking strangers get your sympathy and righteous speeches about injustice... but when it’s your own bloody partner, then you don’t give a fuck, do you?”

“That’s not true!” Doyle shouted.

“It _is_ fucking true!” Bodie shot back. “That’s why she’s dead!”

“Wasn’t my fault, I didn’t know -”

“You should’ve known!” Bodie accused him. “But you thought I’d turned, didn’t you... that’s how well you fucking know me, Doyle, you thought I’d turned!”

Bodie’s arm flexed in emphasis and Doyle stifled a groan through clenched teeth. Christ, he’d never seen Bodie like this before. “It wasn’t like that,” he ground out.

“Didn’t waste any time lifting her, did you? You couldn’t wait to prove it!”

“You’ve got it all wrong...” said Doyle. “You’re off your head if you think -”

“I saw you! She was at your flat!” Bodie said furiously.

“It was Cowley’s orders!” Doyle protested. “It was to protect her... To protect _you_!”

“Bullshit! You didn’t give a toss about me! You knew I loved her and -”

“Don’t give me that!” Doyle scoffed. “You hadn’t seen her in years!”

“And what would you know about it?” Bodie snarled. “Only love yourself, don’t you?”

“If only I did, mate!” said Doyle.

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?” Bodie demanded.

“Nothing...”

“Holding back for once, Doyle? That’s not like you!”

“Fuck off, Bodie.”

“Come on, you got a point to make, let’s hear it!” Bodie goaded.

“Leave it, Bodie,” Doyle warned.

“You’re in no position to be calling the shots, Doyle!”

“You, you dense bastard! I fucking love you!” Doyle shouted.

Doyle felt the vice-like grip around him loosen slightly and the press of the gun ease.

“Only happened the once, you fall for every bloke you fuck?” Bodie asked scornfully.

“Loved you before we fucked, you blind bastard, not because of it!” said Doyle angrily.

“Then why didn’t you -?”

“Say something? Try it on again? Because you weren’t interested, mate, were you?” Doyle spat furiously. “Made that quite clear the next day, going off with Isabelle or whoever the fuck it was...”

Cowley was still shouting up at them and Doyle wished he’d shut up. He needed Bodie’s full attention, just the two of them.

“You know what, Bodie? I’m getting bored of this!” Doyle reached his arm back and grabbed a handful of Bodie’s jacket. “If you wanna jump... then let’s jump…”

Doyle started to pull them forward and Bodie immediately countered his movement, tugging them both back away from the edge. Using that momentum, Doyle thrust backwards, propelling them a few steps before they stumbled and both fell heavily to the ground.

Landing on top of his partner, Doyle grunted in agony at the impact, but without pausing he swivelled round to keep Bodie pinned down. He wasn't letting the stupid fucker get away.

But Bodie didn’t struggle or fight back. He just lay beneath Doyle, uncharacteristically passive, dark eyes inches from Doyle’s own.

Unable to read the intense gaze on him, Doyle glanced down at Bodie’s hand still holding the pistol. He plucked it from slack fingers and chucked it across the roof, wondering how long he had before Cowley turned up and shattered the delicate lull... a minute maybe, minute and a half if he was lucky.

He cautiously lifted himself off his partner, and watched as Bodie stood up. All the fight and anger seemed to have vanished, like he’d given up... something else Doyle had never seen before, and he didn’t like it.

He fought the sudden tightness in his throat. “Listen, I let you down, mate,” he said gruffly. “Won’t happen again... but in future, you tell me what’s going on, instead of shutting me out...”

Bodie shook his head. “Too late... it’s over.”

“What you on about, nothing’s over...”

“Cowley’ll have me locked up after this,” Bodie said tonelessly.

“Cowley knew you were being stitched up, he was fighting for you...You’re not going anywhere, I’ll make sure of it,” Doyle said fiercely.

Bodie gave a snort of disbelief. “What, after I beat you up and threatened to kill you?”

Still that defeated look in Bodie’s eyes, it was scaring Doyle far more than having a gun held to his head.

“’s what mates are for, right?” Doyle said, managing a smile. “Look, after what happened today, you needed to lash out, make someone pay... and while I’d rather you didn’t make a habit of it, I’ll take whatever you throw at me, Bodie.” He paused. “The only place we’re going after this is your flat...” He grimaced as a fresh jolt of pain shot through his bruised body. “Maybe stock up on some aspirin on the way,” he added, gingerly feeling his ribs.

Bodie swallowed, looked away.

“Oi,” Doyle grabbed his arm, made him turn back. “I’m all right," he said firmly. "Nothing a hot bath and a large Scotch won’t fix.”

Bodie regarded him silently a moment. “What you said to me... before...”

“What about it?” asked Doyle, knowing precisely what Bodie was referring to.

“Say it again,” said Bodie.

Doyle was about to reply when there was a rush of noise on the steps behind him. He whipped his head round to see Cowley and Victor come to an abrupt halt on the roof, weapons drawn.

“It’s all right,” he shouted, gesturing with his hands for them to stay back. “We’re coming down... just give us a minute.”

Understanding, Cowley hesitated only briefly before ushering Victor back down the steps.

Doyle turned back to Bodie. “I love you, you stupid bastard, and I’ll say it as often as you want. Now, can we go?”

“Doyle...”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind, want us to jump after all...”

Bodie locked eyes with him. “I was interested... more than interested. Still am.” He turned and started walking towards the steps.

 _Jesus_... Doyle watched Bodie’s retreating figure and felt a tremor of anticipation.

Somehow they’d get through the rest of today. Then tonight... well tonight he’d drive any lingering distrust from his partner, and ribs permitting show him their future.

The End


End file.
